Fragmentary
by TenraiTsukiyomi
Summary: Nanami Chiaki was their class representative. For Enoshima Junko to kill her, for Hope's Peak to have allowed it, for the Future Foundation to try to replace her Hope - that was utterly unforgivable. (Or: The minds of the 77th class still break, they still become criminals and terrorists, but the one they worship is not Enoshima Junko.) Slight AU. Hints of Kamunami.
1. Chapter 1

For a long time they cry, and cry, and cry and scream and shriek like the world has ended and the sun has died and death stares at them in the face. But _oh_ , that situation would have been too an apt description for the sheer ag **onyde** spairgri _e fpain_so _ **rro** wanger_h **atelo vesadne**ss that just about consumes them.

It's awful and suffocating and _they can't breathe_. But they still cry, and shouldn't have their tears dried up from how much they've cried?

The screen has gone black long ago, but their eyes don't leave the screen and, screaming and crying and shrieking, they wail one single word:

 _Nanami. Nanami. Nanami._ They scream, as if the prayer alone would bring her back.

A futile and foolish endeavour. Nanami is dead and isn't coming back.

They don't know how long they scream and cry, standing there as Nanami's experience in the maze and her death plays a loop in their minds, but the black screen flickers to life and Enoshima Junko appears, beautiful and victorous and smiling widely. She says something, gloats and chirps about being in their care, and in another world they would have fallen at her feet like she is god and they vermin not meant to exist. In another world, they would've become her followers, would've idolized her and done unspeakable horrors in her names. In another world, Enoshima Junko would become everything.

(This world is not that world.)

Right then, as the entirety of the 77th Class quiet down only slightly and look at that beautiful madwoman grinning at them from the screen — the screen where they watched Nanami die — the only thought that enters their mind is, _This person killed Nanami._

 _This person killed Nanami._

 _This **bitch** killed Nanami._

 ** _Enoshima Junko killed Nanami._**

They scream again, a wordless, animalistic sound that has no meaning. They scream in anger, in despair, in grief, in pain, in **_hate_**. It is not the screaming sob of those who will become the Ultimate Despairs —perhaps it is similar in its raw grief and despair but ultimately different— but disillusioned with visions of a despairful future and high on her victory, Junko doesn't ping on the abnormality of their behaviour, instead relishing in their despair.

It isn't until later much, much later — when she realizes that the 77th Class refuse to follow her instructions, when they not only launch raids and attacks on the Foundation but on the _Despairs_ as well — that she realizes the brainwashing attempt went horribly, horribly wrong.

The brainwashing should've swayed them to her cause. Should've made them crave despair, made them idolize her, made them become an extension of her will and thoughts, tools of which to use to create her world. The point of showing them the video was to make them into Despairs like her, make them _hers_.

That is not what happened.

What happened is that Nanami Chiaki — sweet, kind, vibrant _dead_ Nanami — becomes the revered god of 77th Class, not Junko.

They aren't hers. They are powerful, maniacs, twisted, talented, broken - and they are _not hers_.

(If the dead girl hadn't been so full of hope, so full of everything she loathed, Junko might've loved her for the _sheer despair_ that overcame her when she came to that realization. Maybe she does, anyway.)

The 77th Class do not become Ultimate Despairs, but some may argue that the alternative isn't actually any better.

.

* * *

.

 **This is just something I want to toy with. After reading "Extra Life" (sort of a Hinata/KamukuraxNanami fic, which is what pulled me into Danganronpa in the first place) I have become very fond of Nanami, enough to go watch the anime itself. And believe me, considering my complicated dislike of things that are canon and anime, that is a big thing. I'm still mad over how Junko got her way with Nanami's class. I get that it's because of the brainwashing video, but it still pisses me off. ...This is not any better, to be honest. I think.**

 **Anyways, this will most likely be very short, like no more than 10 chapters, maybe five. And I don't know when (or if) I will actually update. :S Suggestions/prompts are welcome, though not promised to be written. I'm just such a dried up vegetable.**

 **I suck at titles. Just saying.**

 **~TenraiTsukiyomi**


	2. Chapter 2

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Howls and wails break through the air. Fire licks at the sky, blood splatters the grounds of the previously pristine school, and bodies of the Main Course students drop like flies before the Reserve Course's rampage. The 77th Class can hear them, the sounds of the Tragedy instilling a bone chilling despair, horror, satisfaction and delight in their bones. It's a combination that makes some of them want to cry but they're shushed by the others; it is _time_ , after all

And Yukizome-sensei is talking, a cheerful bob in the screams that fill their heads, but she and the pandemonium outside are wonderful distractions against the burning, aching, hollow reminder of the seat in the back of the classroom, empty, where a vase with flowers, gimmicks, and some small containers are placed on the desk. _  
_

(If they focus too long on the ghost of the person that's supposed to be there, they will probably just... sit there and die, given the events that will transpire in the next minutes. That cannot happen. No one in the 77th class is allowed to die; it's what Nanami would've wanted.)

The school they've lived in for years is dying from the inside out.

(For the past months, they have been dying from the inside out, every single day. _It's your turn_ , they want to tell the school.)

They smile at this, terrible and cold and pleased.

 _They deserve it_ , a voice whispers in their minds. _They deserve it; they let Enoshima in the school, they started the Kamukura Project, they let Nanami die, they_ allowed _Nanami to die._

The Ultimate Housekeeper finishes her speech and smiles. Her eyes are mad with despair and she looks so much like Enoshima that they want to scream and gouge them out. But that won't help them or Yukizome-sensei. This Yukizome-sensei is not the Yukizome-sensei that called them rotting oranges and bodily dragged them to class at the start of the year; she has been broken, she has been turned into a monster, and this monster killed Nanami, and they've had to allow this monster to live with them for the sake of avenging Nanami.

They hate this Not-Yukizome-sensei, but they had loved Yukizome-sensei and they love Nanami and so, for the past months, they can only look at Not-Yukizome-sensei and refrain the urge to stab her to death. It's good practice for everyone. Enoshima has not come greet them face to face ( _a shame_ , says Kuzuryuu) but it doesn't matter because there are other targets that are just as infuriating but too important to simply wipe out.

( _Did you know, everyone? Those people all bear responsibility for our class rep's execution,_ Not-Yukizome-sensei whispers mischievously, pointing at several people including the head of security and Headmaster Kirigiri Jin. Not-Yukizome-sensei grins, pointing at herself with Enoshima's smile in her eyes. _Especially me~_

It is times like those, when Not-Yukizome-Sensei flaunts her involvement in Nanami's death and watches with a broad smile as they all stiffen, that it is the hardest not to see Enoshima and reach for something to _hurt_ — But no, that's not what Nanami would want, it's what Not-Yukizome-sensei wants.)

It feels like they're fraternizing with Nanami's killer.

It's disgusting. It's revolting.

It makes their stomach roll and guts twist and feel like maggots are leisurely chewing out their windpipes—

The feeling is wholly welcomed, in some cases even sought after; they don't deserve any less. Sorry excuses of classmates like them do not deserve anything less than that crushing agony that devoured them in the throes of Nanami's execution, and the pain _is_ fresh, even months after that, but they think that it cannot be enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

"Goodbye, everyone." Yukizome-sensei says.

They hate Enoshima and they hate Hope's Peak and they hate Not-Yukizome-sensei (just like they hate themselves). But Nanami loved _(loves)_ Yukizome-sensei. And maybe they did, once upon a time; but soon enough that will be ash and cinders. They hate the woman that helped kill Nanami but they (Nanami) had loved the cheerful, bubbly woman she used to be.

(It doesn't really matter that Not-Yukizome-sensei doesn't worship Enoshima the way her other minions do, they're still the same, and the only thing stopping the 77th Class from doing _something_ are the memories embedded into these walls, a thin barrier of melancholy and rememberance and mutual grief, the same chord that is holding the students of the 77th Class together. But that is as far as it goes. Not-Yukizome-sensei revers in Nanami's death and the despair it brings her while the students of the 77th Class hate it - hate it with a fervent passion that makes them hate everything else.

As soon as these walls are torn down, this thin barrier broken into little pieces, all of them know that their alliance is over. Not-Yukizome-sensei will go on with her agenda and they will go on their own.)

They won't kill Not-Yukizome-sensei now. No one in the 77th class is allowed to die while this classroom stands, and that is one of the reasons it must be torn down as well. This classroom, this school. _(Everything.)_

Not-Yukizome-sensei looks at each of them and smiles even wider, spirals of despair swirling madly in her eyes as she says, "Let's meet again in the future, my precious students."

 _There won't be a next time, Yukizome-sensei_.

 _If there is, we will probably end up trying to kill you._

(No one in the 77th Class is allowed to die.)

Then, she presses the button, and their classroom goes up in flames.

It reminds them of the flames at Nanami's funeral.

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* * *

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It's easy to get out of the building, past the corpses and students and flames. They are Ultimates, an entire class of Talents held together by the memory of a dead person. Komaeda's luck ensures that no debris or pieces of the crumbling academy crush them. Pekoyama cuts down students with an icy expression and Nidai has no choice but to pick up a sobbing, laughing Owari, who had effortlessly broken the spines and necks of 6 students and promptly broke down. A dazed Koizumi has to be dragged away by Saionji, having focused too intently on snapping shots of everything to care about the axe that nearly took her head off. The student that makes that attempt is dead 2.6 seconds later, courtesy of Kuzuryuu and the sharpened, heated leg of a chair.

They make it to a fair distance before Mioda suddenly turns, eyes blood shot and focusing intently in the direction of the dying academy.

They turn as well, and are greeted by the sight of the grand ending to Enoshima's little game.

 _Thump, thump,_ Mioda whispers, unblinking eyes focused on little stick figures falling down the buildings, even as the faint, far away laughter of students running into the fires caress the air like the moans of ghosts.

It's no secret that each of them despise Enoshima and are sickened and enraged by the mention of her; but satisfaction and horror and pleasure rears their heads in their subconsciousness and they bare their teeth in matching grins, despite feeling ill at the thought of Enoshima managing to conjure such reactions in them. But—

But—

The sight of Hope's Peak in flames and students jumping and running to their deaths is a terrible sight that makes some of them tremble and choke at, but they have smiles on their faces too. Everyone is smiling even though it feels like jagged cracks on their faces because one of the factors that broke their world is burning and it is _glorious_.

They hope this breaks Tengan Kazuo. They hope this breaks Headmaster Kirigiri. They hope this breaks Hope's Peak like it had broken their class.

(If it doesn't, then they will have to try harder, don't they?)

There is a moment of silence, except for the dull roar of flames and the faint laughter of the dead.

Then Komaeda speaks up.

"I'm aware this is not the right time, but..." Komaeda's smile is curiously friendly on the outside, but the 77th class know that he's just as terrible as them underneath it. "This probably counts as graduation, right?"

(Graduation was supposed to be a fun thing, a time full of decorations and food and games. They had planned it for a while now, back then. Nanami had been so excited.

She's dead now. There's no meaning in hanging up the decorations or preparing the food or digging the games out of the two storage rooms that Saionji had brow beaten the janitor into giving them. The sight of the consoles Nanami had stocked for the occassion had made them burst into tears or throw up or probably both, and Souda had broken down because he was the only one that knew how to pack them away and thus had been tasked with it. It was probably the first time Sonia didn't back away from his presence as she sat by his side, hand comfortingly rubbing circles on his back as he heaved post the first trip inside.

And because Nanami is dead - dead and ashes and six feet under - doesn't it make sense for graduation to be a pararell to that horrible truth? Full of death and hellfire and bodies six feet under.)

There are murmurs of agreement, until someone sniffles, "Nanami-san... wanted to graduate, too."

(And Enoshima took that away from her. Hope's Peak took that away from her. _They_ took that away from her.)

(Each and every one of them will pay.)

 _._ _  
_

In that moment, as they bask in the destruction of the school that failed Nanami, they are not aware of the vivid crimson eyes that watches them from a distance.

Kamukura Izuru absently rubs a thumb against the surface of a tiny hairpin, and ponders.

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* * *

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 **The 77th Class -or Komaeda- do not remember Izuru himself because _Plot_ (or maybe they do, I'm undecided) but they are aware of the Kamukura Project. Perhaps not details, but they know Hope's Peak has performed human experimentation and, ehm, cough, they might've 'concluded' that the Experimental Subject (read: Kamukura Izuru) has taken part in some, cough cough, _certain_ plans of Enoshima. Like, say, _themurderofacertainGamertobrainwashherclassmates_ maybe?  
**

 **This makes them very, very interested.**

 **As for the hows... who knows, a certain despair-filled teacher might have conveniently left some... totally-inconspicuous-things around. Haha. *whistles***

 **(I COULD NOT RESIST DOING A SMALL TINY ITTY CAMEO OF IZURU I'M NOT SORRY.)**

 **I wanted ch2 to be a look into Mikan's head because she's been brainwashed before being brainwashed _again_ with the 77th Class, but I wasn't very satisfied. I thought to make the next chapters focusing on individual POVs of some of them, like Mahiru, but I'm not very confident in my character delving either. So we shall see. And I'm terrible at picking the right flow from a scene, hence the timeskip.  
**

 **There are some things that aren't mentioned, like Junko's reaction and etc, but that's because I'm still undecided on how to go about them. I'm currently scouring wiki in my spare time or re-watching anime... sometimes... haha...**

 **I was surprised by how many favorited and followed, and there are even some reviews! Honestly, I'm not sure how I managed to keysmash this thing when normally my inspiration sort of... dies after the first chapter. But anyways, thankyou! And I hope this hasn't disappointed too horribly.  
**

 **~TenraiTsukiyomi**


End file.
